


How Sinestro Became A Member of the Brentwood PTA

by AuroraExecution, w3djyt



Series: Lite Brite Space Husbands [1]
Category: Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotions, Emotions everywhere, Fluff, M/M, Stranger Things Happen In Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraExecution/pseuds/AuroraExecution, https://archiveofourown.org/users/w3djyt/pseuds/w3djyt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hal has a house.</p>
<p>.... Wait, Hal has a house???</p>
<p>[Blowjobs.  Sex.  Mystery.  Mostly sex.  Also Hal has a house. - And yes, we're in this for the long haul.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the Beginning

There was an address on his door.

Typically, one would think this wasn’t a _bad_ thing. Most people, in fact, had addresses on their doors. Usually, it was their own address.

Usually, it wasn’t written in Korugarian.

Hal’s mind raced as he rocketed through the air. There were all of two people in the universe he could think of showing up on his doorstep and leaving him a message in an ancient alien language that was also technically dead as of three almost-end-of-existences ago. Somehow, he doubted it was Soranik. Not only was she too straightforward for this bullshit, but—heaven help him—he was pretty sure he recognized the _handwriting_.

The handwriting of a megalomaniacal not-really-reformed space warlord.

A space warlord who was now on Earth holing up in some kind of… large, suburban home?

Hal’s stop was so sudden, he very nearly caused a sonic boom just over the roofs of what appeared to be a typical upper middle class neighborhood just outside of Coast City. Fortunately, his ring seemed to have things covered on its own, and he only ended up displacing some rather irritable birds from the powerlines and causing some nearby foliage to spin on to a pristine front lawn.

“… Seriously?”

The ring gave a low confirmation somewhere in the back of his mind, and, yep, _that_ door had the proper address on it. So Hal dropped down by the side entrance cut in between the huge garage and the large home and, baffled, irritated and damningly curious, tried the door. When it swung open without any effort, he defaulted back to suspicious and went back to floating, drifting in cautiously as his ring scanned for traps, bombs, twists in reality—whatever he could find that might explain why he’d been directed to an upscale McMansion in the Coast City suburbs.

Then he rounded the corner and the paranoid conspiracies (along with most other thought) came to an abrupt halt.

Hal recognized several things at once. Thaal Sinestro was in the middle of a modern, human kitchen. Thaal Sinestro had a spoon in hand, a book on the counter and a large pot on the stove in front of him. Thaal Sinestro was… wearing a button down shirt and slacks?

Somehow, Hal had ended up in the kitchen too at some point, staring in blank confusion as his mind worked overtime to explain his current reality.

The alien on the other side of the kitchen made a sound of acknowledgement as he stuck the spoon into a large bowl and began mixing the strange combination of mostly meat.

Sinestro had very little understanding of why humans of Jordan's type prepared their meat in loaves, but as he was determined to improve the man's living situation, had very little else to do at the moment, and never liked doing things by halves—suffice to say, Sinestro had many reasons for attempting to cook a human meatloaf.

The longer Hal stared at the completely innocuous scene before him, the more confused he became.

Why was he here? Why did Sinestro _want_ him to be here? Was Sin _actually_ cooking something? Should he be concerned about the contents of whatever was on the stove? Had he accidentally slipped into another time stream or alternate reality? If he had, though, his ring should have registered it and that clearly wasn’t happening so he just ended up back at the assumption that this was some sort of elaborate trap.

He jerked his head back over his shoulder on sudden, paranoid impulse.

No one and nothing.

He turned back around. Sinestro still had his back to him, attention apparently focused on the stove and still— “Are you wearing _slacks_?”

" _Really_ , Jordan?"  Sinestro was torn between amusement and the strong impulse to chide Hal for asking a question when he clearly had visual confirmation of the answer.  "I do believe that is the name of these human trousers, yes."

“That’s not what I meant—”

< _Fabric is Earth native._ >

Well, okay then. Hal warily stepped closer, glancing around as if waiting for the rest of the Sinestro Corps to jump out at any moment and … well… _do_ something at any rate. He consciously straightened as he moved closer. “So what is this supposed to be? A warning? Burglary? End of the world?” He paused, the thought suddenly occurring to him that this _being_ some random house in the suburbs meant there was probably a family living here. “Wait. Is this a hostage situation?”

Oh, well, _this_ Sinestro could work with.  With a raised eyebrow and a teasing smirk, he finally turned to look at his favorite Green Lantern.  "Would you like it to be?"

Hal sputtered. “What—I— _no_ , of _course_ I—” He snapped his ring hand up defensively between them, aiming pointedly at Sinestro. “Answer the question! Where’s the family that lives here?”

Sinestro's eyebrow only raised higher.  "Family?  Not the specific term I would have chosen, but I suppose you and I could count as such."

“I— _what_?” Against all better judgment, Hal dropped his defense to rub at this eyes instead. Between his main job and the difficulty of trying to find and hold down something planetside at the same time, he’d gone home ready for a beer and a nap, not… whatever this was. “Look. Can we just skip the charades and jump straight to the end of the monologue where you tell me what the _point_ of this is, I can go rescue some people, and we can both get back to our lives outside of whatever bizarre bubble of reality I’ve wandered into?”

Sinestro smiled indulgently and returned to his stirring.  After a moment, he took pity on Hal and elucidated, "This is no alternate reality, Jordan.  I have simply left New Korugar."

“ _What_?” That seemed like a solid option to stick with.

"I am no longer on New Korugar," Sinestro repeated, slower.  "As you can see."

“Damnit, Sin, you know what I mean!” Hal snapped, jerking his hand down in order to glare properly and just barely managing to keep from hitting the insufferable ass. “ _Why_ are you _here_? What the hell do you need me for and whose house did you steal?”

A leisurely smirk.  "I maintain I did not steal it, but the name of the owner is on the documents beside you."

The green light didn’t even finish forming into a hand before it scooped up the documents and fanned them out between them. Hal had a sneaky suspicion he knew what to expect from the official documentation and sure enough, there was his name in plain English on what appeared to be the deed to the house. He crossed his arms and frowned at the alien in what was apparently _his_ kitchen.

“Start talking.”

Sinestro responded without looking up, although he did lean over to find a salt shaker.  "Your previous living conditions were abysmal, Jordan.  I merely improved upon them."

“Not what I’m talking about and you know it.” Hal’s words carried just a shade too much concern to be flat. The construct parted so he could stare at Sinestro more directly, the papers themselves quickly shuffled back together behind him and absently set aside. “Why are you on Earth? What happened?”

Sinestro did set the meatloaf to the side for the moment at that.  This was important, and could influence whether Hal would allow him to stay long-term.  "There was a... situation on New Korugar.  I was unable to remain with the Sinestro Corps."  All true, if vague.  "I gave up leadership of them, and needed somewhere to stay."  Not _entirely_ true, but that was the official story, anyway.

“So you bought me a house?” Hal prompted, not relaxing _just_ yet. There was no convincing himself not to be concerned, but for now at least he needed to press whatever advantage he apparently had. That was just how it worked with Sinestro. There wasn’t much to go on, so he let Sin choose the narrative, no matter his doubts.  

Sinestro considered lying about the reason behind his coming to Earth, but it seemed unlikely that any other excuse would be terribly convincing, and would likely only lead to a fight.  In the end, the truth slipped out.  "I came here because I knew I would be safe with you."  The statement felt too vulnerable, so Sinestro added, "As I said earlier, your living conditions were absolutely _dismal_."

"Safe from what?" Hal blurted before he could completely gate his thoughts, ignoring Sinestro’s continued disparaging of his apartment. He knew it was shit. He just didn’t care as much as Sin apparently did. “I don’t know how you expected this to go, but you can’t just use Earth as your personal ‘get out of jail free’ card,” he added, dropping his arms to rest his hands at his hips instead. “If you’ve got someone chasing you down, tell me now and tell me why.”

Sinestro chose his words very carefully, knowing this could easily get him a place to stay or have the entire Green Lantern Corps after him.  "The details are the affair of the Sinestro Corps," he stated, "but I am no longer leading it."  Truth, in name, but if he told anyone about his true plans it would ruin them.  Sinestro was never one to let his personal relationships get in the way of a plan.  "As long as I am not, no one should be looking for me any longer."

“You’re _protecting_ them.”

Hal stood for a long, silent moment, eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation. Some deep seated wariness that never really went away around Sinestro insisted he press for more information. Too many years of experience told him that wasn’t going to help anything. He wanted to press—to say how much keeping Sin ‘safe’ depended on what was coming, on knowing what was going on. But they both knew that wasn’t true. Knowing never really affected Hal’s outcomes all that much and Sinestro would probably just get cagier if he pushed any more.

And there was just something too appealing about the entire situation to pass up. He knew Sinestro trusted him to cover his back—it was a mutual trust rebuilt over time that they instinctively fell into as needed—but this was different. Sinestro was asking him for _protection_. For asylum, really, if he was trying to be accurate. And the thing was… he could give it. No sneaking around. No hiding in the shadows. He could and, moreover, he found himself wanting to. That part of him that would always hold out hope for his former mentor lit up again and vied for attention.

“If I do this, I’m going through the proper channels,” he conditionally began, searching for and pointedly holding Sinestro’s gaze as he talked. “ _Earth_ -based asylum. I’m not involving the Corps in this, and it’s just as dependent on what I hear about your corps as it is your ability to abide by local law. I _mean that_ , Sin. I’ll have to update the League and they can deal with the appropriate governmental channels, because, _somehow_ you managed to save the planet at some point in recent history and damned if anyone’s ever told me the full story, but since that apparently cleared your record… we can make this work.”

"I was, in point of fact, planning to live here," Sinestro replied easily, hiding the relief under arrogant words.  "As meaningless as your laws are to me, I am capable of following them, and I came here for _your_ help, Jordan, not that of your corps."  He sneered, thinking of the mostly well-meaning but largely ineffective Green Lanterns.  And on the topic of well-meaning but ineffective, "And your Justice League can do as they like."

“Hey, I never said either of them were perfect, but you live here, you’re under League protection, technically.” Hal smirked a bit at that, unable to withhold the part of him that found the entire idea of Sinestro making nice to a League of people he can barely stand hilarious. “ _My_ protection. Try not to make me look bad, okay?” Somehow, it was an easy tease in spite of their history.

Sinestro gave him an affronted look.  "When you were a white circle, I told you I would help you impress your peers.  _You_ were the one who insisted you only wanted to save the universe."  He caught himself just in time, remembering to edit out the unspoken "with me".

The sudden rush of fondness was more than a little ridiculous, considering. Hal nevertheless allowed himself to indulge in it. “Turns out most people find saving the universe pretty impressive.” After another, absent thought and a brief message silently shot off to the Watchtower far above, the soft green glow around him faded out, uniform following suit in a way that let his civilian clothing slide into place again. “So, should I ask what you’re cooking?  ‘Cuz it’s looking a lot more like ‘dead animal’ than ‘wholesome dinner’ right now and I’m pretty beat.”

"My research indicates humans consume their meat in loaves," Sinestro said, returning to his stirring with a small private smile.  "Have you not seen someone prepare such a meal before?"

Hal barely managed to smother his laugh to a quieter “Pfft-!” behind his hand and leaned over a bit to peer into the bowl. “Well I don’t know about humans ‘eating meat in loaves’,” he began, expression open and full of mirth, “but I’m pretty sure my mom used to have some seasoned bread crumbs in there by now and that it’s going to take a while to cook. Don’t suppose this place has any beer?” A quick glance around the kitchen did not produce an obvious location for a fridge—jeez, how much was this place if the thing was actually hidden behind a cupboard façade?

"The refrigerator is in the corner."  Sinestro raised an arm to gesture in the general direction.  There was something strangely homelike about this conversation, and while he was usually on the other end back in the day, he found it pleasant to be taking care of Hal.  "While you investigate, bring me the crumbled bread and the tomato seasoning."

“Mmhm…” Hal was already wandering over to the indicated panel before Sinestro finished his request, too curious not to pull open a few other cupboards along the way and finding various appliances, plates, serving items, etc. filling them up. It was almost like someone lived here—or had just finished moving in. “How long have you been planetside?” he tossed back over his shoulder as the last cupboard he attempted to open turned into the aforementioned fridge… completely stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, at least a gallon of milk, and if he had to guess at least three other types of drinks before he found beer lined up in four columns of six at the bottom of the fridge.

His preferred, local microbrew. Okay. That was a little creepy. Convenient, but creepy. He snatched up a bottle before he could really think about it much more—it wasn’t like Sinestro being something of a stalker was exactly _new_ —and let the door shut behind him as he went on the hunt for a pantry. It wasn’t far—likely because this actually seemed to be a planned, well made and maintained kitchen, given that it actually _had_ a pantry to begin with. Bread crumbs and “tomato seasoning” acquired, he drifted back over to Sinestro, plopped both down on the counter beside him, and used the edge of the countertop to open his beer.

Sinestro was just finishing with eggs and pepper when Hal returned with the requested items as well as a bottle of alcohol.  Despite his hesitation about purchasing intoxicants of any kind for Hal to consume, his research had assured him that this beer was one of the mildest forms of it on Earth, and that likely someone of Hal's build would require a large amount to be noticeably impaired, even with little to no previous exposure.  And Sinestro was well aware of Hal's level of exposure to intoxicants in general. 

Still, Hal seemed to be enjoying himself.  There was a softness to his eyes that Sinestro hadn't seen for a while, and it was oddly pleasant.  "Approximately one Earth week, if my research is correct," Sinestro replied to his question, starting to add the ingredients Hal had brought over.

“You don’t need research so much as a clock for that,” Hal noted. He took a long draught of beer and leaned back against the counter, content to watch for the moment. It was an odd scene—Sinestro in American business casual as he made meatloaf, of all things—but it wasn’t so much the oddity of it all as it was the domesticity of it that captured Hal’s attention. He wanted to remember this moment long after whatever had caused it to happen blew up in his face. “You’re remarkably resourceful for someone who never really seemed to like Earth enough to know anything about it,” he glibly pointed out. “More research? Don’t tell me there’s some sort of Super Villain Support Group for this sort of thing.”

"Research," Sinestro confirmed.  He only really had one friend on Earth outside of Hal, and Sinestro had no plans to ask Teth-Adam for help on tasks such as this, especially as it was clear he had vastly different cultural tendencies than Hal.  "I hardly ally myself with the other so-called villains on your planet."

Meat mixture completed, Sinestro reached out and grabbed Hal (and if it so happened to be by his ass it was clearly just out of habit), hauling the human out of the way so he could open the cabinet beneath the counter to find a pan.

Hal was well out of the way before he realized he shouldn’t be that used to having a) his butt used as a handle, and b) Sinestro’s hand on his ass. He gave a long suffering sigh and tilted his hip back against the countertop from his new position and took another sip of beer. “Your ring?” he prompted instead, opting not to define precisely what he was talking about lest he limit what Sinestro was willing to tell him, but adding, “Your English is a little uncannily good for your… what? Second? Third? Language,” for

context.

"I know several languages, Jordan," explained Sinestro as he bent over to search the cupboard.  "Most Korugarians are multilingual, and I do have a background in anthropology."  Eventually he surfaced, setting a loaf-shaped pan on the counter, and starting to scrape his mixture into the pan with the spoon.

Hal shook his head lightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips from the way Sinestro, per usual, managed to completely avoid the central part of his question. Well. It seemed like they’d have time to come back to that later. “Most humans aren’t,” he said, “even our anthropologists and especially the people in this country. Also, you’ve never really _had_ to know any language, let alone _my_ primary one for as long as we’ve known each other.”

"There was the time we fought Black Hand," Sinestro pointed out.  "When we both lost power."  He took his pan to the oven, already preheated, and slipped it inside—his hand lingered for a moment, enjoying the warmth. 

Then he shut the oven door, dialed in the timer precisely the way the manual had indicated, and turned back to face Hal with a smirk.  "And now we have a full hour before that finishes.  How would you like to occupy the time?"

“Well, I’m sure your research told you the meatloaf is only part of the meal, right?” Hal’s smirk deepened from behind his beer, drawing another sip and raising his eyebrows to goad Sin on.

Sinestro raised both eyebrows.  "Oh, well.  If you would prefer I continue to prepare food, I can certainly return to that."  With a smirk, he began to move toward the refrigerator to find the potatoes, pinching Hal's thigh as he passed.

“It _is_ the way to a man’s heart, after all.” If Sin thought he was just going to give him whatever he wanted because he deigned to show up—in need of help or not—he had another thing coming, as far as Hal was concerned.

On his way back with the potatoes, Sinestro made a single fluid motion that pinned Hal against the counter, then leaned his face in until their mouths were a breath apart.  "That is not a widely-held belief on Korugar," he murmured, mouth curling up.  He waited, until just when Hal's eyes were starting to lid, and then quickly pulled away and went back to his preparation surface.  "I am still learning how Earthmen operate."

Hal forced himself to draw a _slow_ breath in spite of the sudden way his pulse sped up when Sinestro trapped him against the counter. He used the beer as a distraction to settle nerves that were all too happy at Sin’s sudden closeness. “Well, can’t say I’ve ever really experienced it myself,” he blithely offered, slipping easily into a charming smile as he relaxed once more. “Always willing to try, of course.”

After silently rinsing the potatoes in the sink, Sinestro set them down and dried his hands, taking the time to think of a countermeasure.  With a smirky expression that was downright dangerous, Sinestro reached around Hal for the peeling device, letting his arm slide up against Hal's body, and then back.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Hal leaned back against the counter more, tilting his head to the side just slightly and arching an eyebrow. No more than that and an almost incidental slide of his thigh against Sinestro’s own. Although usually an invitation, Hal kept a tension in his form that was clearly meant more as a dare than anything.

This was turning into a game, and one Sinestro could still excel at, ring or no ring.  He set down the peeler and suddenly kneeled down directly in front of Hal, gaze locked on Hal's and burning hot.  With one hand, Sinestro opened the cabinet to the left of his leg and reached in for a colander.

Now there was a view Hal didn’t get to see often enough. He smirked, adjusting his lean so he could better appreciate the angle. “’s a good look for you,” he announced with a slight raise of his drink in accent.

Sinestro stood himself back up with a slow sinuous flow of movement, not quite touching Hal but leaning in as close as possible, absently setting the colander down on the counter.  "I don't know what you mean," he replied, false innocence fading into a smug smirk.

“What I mean… is that after going so long without any kind of contact… and then showing up expecting me to _help you_ …” Hal straightened just slightly to meet Sin’s gaze more directly, but made no move to push him away. “I could appreciate a little more effort in your ‘long time, no see’.”

Sinestro's lip curled harder, amused.  "Was the house not enough to prove myself?"  He reached around Hal again, once more touching the man's side, this time picking up a wooden spoon.  "How would you like me to show you, then?"

“ _You_ wanted the house, not me,” Hal pointed out. “Maybe things were different on Korugar, but on Earth, if you want someone to do something for you, you give them something you know _they_ will like, not you.” He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Oh?"  Sinestro flipped the spoon aimlessly in his hands.  "And what _would_ you like, then?"

A wicked smile slowly curled Hal’s lips. “How about a ‘please’?” he purred, lidding is eyes in concert.

Sinestro considered the proposition seriously for a moment before making a leisurely motion with his arms, the Korugarian equivalent of a shrug.  "If you desire it," he replied, and lifted the spoon like a paintbrush, starting a slow calligraphy on Hal's chest.  He spelled it aloud as he wrote, the complex Korugarian letters managing to loop around Hal's nipples and down his stomach to cut off right over his abdominal muscles.

Hal shivered. It was just a damn spoon and the lightest touch and this was far from the strangest sort of intimacy he’d shared with someone, but… but this was Sinestro, and as far as his body’s tendencies towards arousal, that made a difference. Being able to hear Sin’s actual voice rather than what was translated through the ring was helping, too. As was the fact that the man had actually agreed to his request. Sinestro… never really asked for things. So even if this was kind of roundabout, it was still what he’d asked for—and in Sin’s native tongue to boot.

With a low exhale, Hal relaxed back against the counter, his expression openly appreciative, smirk lingering. “That bad, hm?” he lightly teased. “Guess I have to keep you, then.”

Sinestro read Hal's shiver, and the familiarity warmed him.  "I suppose I must earn the right to stay," Sinestro responded, amused.  He casually started another word, this time allowing the last downstroke to reach lower, very deliberately caressing Hal's cock through his clothing.  "Mine," Sinestro explained in Korugarian, then repeated the word in English.

Hal barely managed to keep his hips down, tightening his hold on the counter and raising both eyebrows pointedly. “And what makes you so sure of that?” he bluntly challenged, holding Sinestro’s gaze as he said it. Whatever his body’s reaction, his emotions still held sway and Sinestro showing up after so long without a hint of contact with the expectation of aid? Well, that made his emotions a little more demanding.

"Hal Jordan," said Sinestro, mouth twisting with suppressed laughter, "There is no one else in the universe who fits you as I do."  The makeshift brush started to move again, this time writing faster and more, a full sentence.  Sinestro did not read aloud or translate, but pointedly centered his writing lower this time.

He was right, of course. If that wasn’t always the problem with Sinestro. Still, hearing it said with such confidence made something unfurl in his chest. Sinestro hadn’t even paused before answering. The man was nothing if not self-assured on most days, but the matter-of-fact way he’d answered instead of offering something more grandiose spoke to something deeper that Hal wasn’t anticipating to feel quite so strongly or quickly as he did.

“… I didn’t catch that one,” he quietly requested of the last text, having lost track almost immediately and given up shortly after. Not like he’d ever had the time to really master written Korugarian as well as spoken anyway.

Sinestro answered in Korugarian only, feeling not entirely prepared emotionally to translate the line into Hal's language.  " _Let the universe and all within know that you belong to me, forever._ "  It was from an old book he had found in a ruin once, many years ago, a love letter from some long-ago Korugarian to his paramour.  Sinestro did not elaborate.

Hal reached out, instinctively needing to touch and ending up pulling himself up from the counter by a firm grip on Sin’s shirt so he could kiss the man properly. He didn’t get quite all of it. Some of the phrasing was different than he was used to, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was older—he could still remember some of the changes in grammar and wording when Sinestro slipped into quoting older Korugarian years ago when everything was new and Hal had been fascinated by this strange alien and his obsession with the past. Even though his understanding was sparse, it was enough and the words deserved a proper answer, so he tilted his head and deepened the kiss encouragingly.

As if proving Sinestro's words, Hal's mouth slotted perfectly against his, and the kiss was comfortably familiar.  In his heart of hearts, Sinestro had to admit that he had missed this—the exact warmth and weight of Hal Jordan in his arms, the sweetness of the human's kisses, the sensation that the two of them belonged like this, together. 

Sinestro let Hal pull him further into the kiss, never one to turn down an invitation to drive Hal breathless.  He pressed into Hal's mouth forcefully, wanting to refamiliarize himself with every movement that made Hal shiver or twitch or let out small noises of pleasure.

Hal surged up against the man in his grasp, slipping his hands up, over Sin’s shoulders and wrapping his arms tightly in return: intent on keeping them as close and firmly latched to one another as he could. In the clash of lips and tongue and teeth that followed, he eked out little gasps of air here and there—never fulfilling enough; continuing until his lungs burned and forced him to pull away, panting, flush, and dizzy with lust.

“… You are… _definitely_ staying.”

There was a certain amount of contentment in Sinestro's smirk now, as he pulled away and straightened, his face leaving the reach of Hal's mouth.  "A moment ago you weren't certain," he teased, waiting to see how Hal reacted.

“You gave me something I wanted,” the impish retort.

"Does that mean we can stop?" Sinestro asked, teasing back, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Don’t you _dare_.”

The smirk widened into a grin.  "Was that a challenge?"

"... Not if it means you stop." Hal's hold tightened.

Sinestro stood still, watching Hal's reaction, a smug tiger in the grass.

Hal cupped his hand around the back of Sinestro’s neck, digging into the muscle and glaring up at him. He set his jaw against the want to say something—having already given away more than necessary in their game. He didn’t mind being _eager_ , but he was far from desperate and just as stubborn. If Sinestro wanted anything more, he could admit to it too, damnit.

A laugh half-formed in his mouth, Sinestro dipped his head to kiss Hal briefly before straightening out of reach again.

The fingers at the back of Sin’s neck firmed their hold and Hal’s frown verged dangerously close to a pout, but he stubbornly stayed put. Whatever it was Sinestro was after, he could ask. As far as Hal was concerned, making him work for something they both wanted after showing up out of the blue and expecting accommodation was just plain rude. He wasn’t about to spend however long playing house with someone as manipulative as Sinestro by giving him everything he wanted immediately.

The laugh was still there in Sinestro's eyes, as he felt Hal's grip tighten.  Something in Sinestro's chest felt a little odd, a little too charmed by the pout on Hal's lips.  "You won't come up here?" Sinestro asked, voice colored warm with amusement and fondness.

Hal’s grip turned to something softer as the tone, more than the words, made him ease back into the warmth of the moment. That… wasn’t a common tone for Sin to take, under any circumstances, and he found himself quickly wanting more of it. Thus decided, he leaned up and into the stretch Sinestro seemed to want, leveraging his hold at the back of Sin’s neck to pull himself just shy.

“Here?” His words were just as warm and teasing, gaze hooded as he watched Sin’s reaction.

There had always been something irresistible for Sinestro in the way Hal flirted and teased.  Hal was in his element, comfortable and enjoying himself, and Sinestro had no choice but to ease forward into another kiss.  His open hand slid into place at the small of Hal's back and started to wander.

Hal leaned up just the last bit he could, dragging Sin down in the same motion and deepening the kiss again. A slight tilt of his hips was all it took to get Sinestro’s hand firmly on his ass once more and he gave a muffled noise of approval with the gesture. Not desperate, perhaps, but he’d definitely missed this—or at least this part of whatever it was Sinestro actually had planned.

Sinestro's mouth dissolved into a smirk around the kiss as he felt Hal adjusting into his hand.  This was a position both of them enjoyed, and Sinestro never minded having extra confirmation.  "Very good, Jordan," he said when he took a moment to breathe.  Devious smile still in place, Sinestro gave in to temptation and slowly started kneading the firm flesh of Hal's ass.

A soft moan was Sinestro’s immediate reward as Hal leaned more of his weight against the Korugarian. He tilted his head enough to mouth the length of Sin’s neck, nipping more as he lingered at the crisp collar of a white button-down. Somehow, the cotton fabric seemed more foreign than constructs of light, and the thought brought a small bubble of mirth to his lips. He slid a hand around to tuck a finger under the lapel and tug playfully. “Seriously, did you go and _buy_ this?” he couldn’t help teasing, wildly distracted by the thought of Sinestro in a department store.

Sinestro leaned a little further, sucking softly but insistently at Hal's ear, and kissing at the ridge of his jawline.  "Do you doubt my abilities, Jordan?" he asked, unconcerned.

Hal instinctively tipped his head to the side to allow Sinestro better access even as his wandering mind flitted over the details of their current scenario all over again. “Not a _doubt_ exactly—mmm.” His eyes lidded when Sinestro found a particularly nice spot along his jaw. “… ‘m just surprised, ‘s all.”

Sinestro paused, then returned to the spot that made Hal make that sound and gave some more attention to it.  "Like that, do you?" he breathed against Hal's skin, before starting on a bruise.

The same hitch of breath and back-of-his-throat moan returned with Sinestro’s renewed attention. Hal quickly lost track of his words and settled for a soft sound of affirmation instead. His hands became short, restless movement: grasping at nothing and pressing into cloth and skin.

With a widening of his smirk, Sinestro pressed them closer by his grip on Hal's ass.  "Would you like something?" asked Sinestro mischievously, pausing from his work for a moment.  "There are still forty-five earth minutes until I must return to the cooking."

“Why the _hell_ is that so hot?” Hal breathlessly demanded, and then lurched up in Sin’s hold to kiss him fiercely once more. “I’m starting to wonder,” he all but purred, rolling his hips to push his ass back into Sinestro’s hand again, “exactly how well stocked this place is.”

Sinestro could feel exactly how much Hal wanted this, and that had always been the most potent aphrodisiac for him.  "Would you like to see for yourself?"  Sinestro gave another firm squeeze.

“ _Fuck yes_.” It came out as little more than a hiss, but Hal’s eagerness was not easily contained. With no caveats and the easy rapport between them, he was hard pressed to come up with anything more elaborate than ‘yes please’ in response to Sinestro’s words.

Turning them, Sinestro began to guide Hal to the hall, attempting to move toward the bedroom but unwilling to give up either his grip on Hal's ass or their traded fiery kisses.  The walk was less graceful than it would have been with a ring and part of Sinestro was annoyed at the restriction, but the rest of him was too distracted with the feel of Hal moving and moaning against him.

They were only halfway down the hallway before Hal’s wandering hands and growing lust got the better of them both and spun them, shoving Sinestro against the wall. His hands moved insistently to Sin’s belt, blindly undoing it as he peppered kisses along Sinestro’s neck. One last, searing kiss and a salacious wink, and Hal slipped down, tugging open the slacks—unable to keep back a low, pleased chuckle upon finding only smooth, magenta skin beneath.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” he quipped with a playful kiss to the top of Sin’s growing erection. Then, with another upward glance, Hal dragged his tongue underneath from root to tip, lapping once at the head and then sucking lightly, lidded gaze watching for Sin’s reaction.

Arousal came easily and quickly, with the view of Hal so seductive and utterly pleased with himself.  Sinestro let out a long curse in Korugarian, having to actively work at holding himself back from thrusting roughly into Hal's mouth.  " _Jordan_ ," he finally managed to say, voice rough with desire.

“Hmm?” Hal kept his tongue pressed against the underside of Sinestro’s erection as he made the noise: transferring the hum of it on purpose. With one hand, he tugged fabric more completely out of the way and the other came up to wrap around the base of Sin’s length. Another slight forward lean drew Sinestro just a little bit farther into the wet heat of Hal’s mouth—and then left him suddenly bereft as Hal pulled back with a wet ‘pop’, tightening his hand just enough at the base to keep Sin’s hips in place. He licked his lips and stared up with a wicked smirk. “There something you wanted, Sin?”

" _Jordan_ ," Sinestro repeated, voice dropping into a growl.  "I thought you wanted—" He broke off, needing a breath to stabilize himself.  "—to see the bedroom?"

“Changed my mind,” Hal announced with no small amount of amusement, shifting up on his knees to lap at the tip of Sin’s erection again. “Want you more,” he murmured, lips brushing over the sensitive flesh with each word, then slowly sliding down the stiffening length. Whatever Hal’s earlier rush, he was careful now: rolling his tongue and swallowing against the widening girth in his mouth until his lips were stretched around the base of it, moaning hotly at the feel of it in his throat.

The sound that escaped Sinestro's mouth was nearly animalistic—it vaguely sounded like Hal's name but wasn't comprehensible any longer.  His hand flew to the back of Hal's head, gripping him tightly but giving him free rein.  Sinestro usually had better control than this, but something about the way Hal wanted this, wantonly and unashamedly, something about Hal Jordan in general ate away at his control.

Another moan rumbled from somewhere in the back of Hal’s throat, and he drew back again with it—this time only partway and then down again. The hand tangling in his hair was pleasant, but as much as he enjoyed it when Sin got more aggressive, holding back this time earned him a reward. So Hal swallowed again, exaggerated and deep, drawing the hard length just that much farther in on his own and stayed there with a hum that melted into a low moan.

Hal knew he was good at this—had always prided himself on it, but he also _enjoyed it_. The way Sinestro’s hips would tense and lift just slightly before he could bring them under control again. The tug and pull on his hair even when Sin was actively attempting to keep his grip from yanking. The thick heat that brought an ache to his jaw the longer he forced it loose and swallowed around the hard length in his mouth.

A muffled whine escaped from somewhere deep in his throat and Hal dropped the hand not at Sin’s hip to his own groin instead, cupping himself through his pants and squeezing. He pulled back, one hand flat to Sinestro’s hip and the other pressed against his own erection—painfully hard already just from his lover’s reactions.

Sinestro groaned, catching a glimpse of Hal's hand moving and able to make an educated guess of where it was going.  "You like this," Sinestro rasped out, and it wasn't a question.  "Jordan, you're—"  He broke off for a moan as Hal took him back in, a strangled sentence in Korugarian halfway between worshipful and obscene, the intelligible words focused on "perfect" and "mine" and "want".

Hal echoed the sound soon after, drawing back enough to drag his tongue over the head again, licking up precum with a hum of enjoyment. His hand at Sinestro’s hip flexed into the waistline of the pants barely staying up, bunching the fabric as his other hand pressed down against his own erection through his pants, a short groan escaping between low pants at the sensation. Maybe he was a _little_ more hard up than he wanted to admit, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

So Hal moved, swallowing Sinestro’s erection down to the root and sucking hard, bobbing his head up and down the entire length in a fervent drive to bring him off before he came embarrassingly fast in his own pants. The thought made him groan and rock into his hand again, pressing down desperately—unable to figure out if he was trying to stave off climax or urge it along.

It became clear when Sinestro looked down again that Hal was close, and Sinestro had no desire to stop him.  Hal was stunning in his openness, all of his true self exposed for only Sinestro, and Sin hadn't had this in too long, wanted nothing more than to fall over the edge with Hal.  "Jordan," he managed, grip tightening as he looked down to meet Hal's gaze.  It was difficult to remember the intricacies of English at this point.  " _Mine_ ," slipped out in Korugarian, " _You are mine, Jordan._ "

Gone. He was gone.

Hal thrust up against his hand and came with a shudder, unable and unwilling to look away, even if he couldn’t immediately keep going. He wanted to pull back and pant for air, but the hand in his hair was firm and the weight on his tongue too good to give up. So he stayed as he was, swallowing against the hard length down his throat, and breathing hard through his nose until the shudders lessened and he could focus again. It wasn’t _exactly_ thinking, but he could press his tongue up against the alien flesh and suppress his gag reflex enough to bob his head again, gaze lidding but not entirely looking away.

Sinestro felt a swell of pride at the clear proof of how much he affected Hal, knowing he had brought Hal to climax so quickly.  Hal was resplendent in his most vulnerable moment, eyes dilated black with pleasure and swollen red lips still stretched obscenely around Sinestro's cock.  It had been too long since Sinestro had had Hal like this.  He could feel the shivers coming from his human, and they inexorably pulled Sinestro closer to his own orgasm. 

" _You have always been mine_ ," he growled, and let that statement and the wet heat of Hal's skilled mouth pull him along over the cliff too.

Raw talent and a bit of luck kept Hal from choking. He leaned back just enough and swallowed: drinking down everything Sinestro had to give with a satisfied moan. It was a long moment before he pulled back enough to pant for lost air and settle back on his feet, grinning contentedly up at his companion. Then, just as words were starting to drift back into his conscious mind, a loud beeping chimed down the hallway and his grin softened to a quiet chuckle instead.

Hal shook his head in mild disbelief that this was a moment he was having with Sinestro of all people, but allowed himself to enjoy it for the time being. Lord knew his luck would run out eventually, and he was of the mind to enjoy himself while he could. “… Should probably get that,” he somewhat hoarsely teased.

"One moment," Sinestro replied, likewise searching for air.  Based on his general understanding of cooking, Sinestro figured it wouldn't hurt to take a minute to drag Hal up to him and kiss the man thoroughly.

“Mmf—” Yeah, okay he could stand some annoying beeping for a little bit longer.

Hal slid his hands up along Sin’s thighs—soothingly and with care—so he could gently tuck his lover back into his slacks, do up the fly, and deftly redo the belt. Eventually, he had to break for air and pressed another, far more chaste kiss to the corner of Sinestro’s mouth with affection. “… Judging by your lack of them, I don’t suppose you have any spare underwear around here?” he faintly joked, a pleasant flush still lingering on his cheeks at the open acknowledgment of having come in his pants like an overexcited teenager.

After the roll of warm affection from how sweet the kiss was and how gently Hal was putting him back into place, sudden heat spiked in Sinestro at the reminder that Hal had, in fact, come in his pants.  "I rather like you like this," he smirked, "or without."  Sinestro pressed a last kiss to Hal's mouth, groped him quickly through his pants, and sauntered back down the hall.

An eyebrow raised.

“Yeah I bet you do,” Hal blithely followed, swatting Sin on the ass just before he was out of reach. He glanced down the hall, once back at Sin already in the kitchen again, and then decided poking around some more was definitely in order. He never did get to see the bedroom, after all.


	2. Addendum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hal hasn't gotten any for a while and is still 50% convinced this is probably some weird dream.

In the end, it was only a few minutes later that he rejoined Sin in the kitchen, freshly clad in one of Sinestro’s spare shirts and a triumphant smirk. He meandered back over to where he’d left his beer from earlier, leaning an elbow on the counter as he took another swig of it. “So I’m thinking that master suite just might be the size of my entire apartment,” he glibly noted, glancing over to see what held Sinestro’s attention instead of him.

Sinestro was in fact preparing the potatoes for boiling.  He finished the one in his hands and went to put them in the pot. 

"Quite so," he replied to Hal's statement, before actually taking the time to look at Hal.  Sinestro held back a curse as he finally took in Hal's new attire.  " _Jordan_ ," he bit out roughly, stalking forward.  Hal was going to be the death of him one day.

“Hm?” Hal smirked from behind the tip of his beer bottle, making no attempt to straighten from his half-bent-over lean against the counter. “I figured you wouldn’t mind,” he blithely continued, drawing another sip in a way that made the hem of the shirt hike up just below revealing anything too titillating. “It’s a little tight in the shoulders though…”

Hal was wearing Sinestro's shirt.  This should not have been as painfully arousing as it was, but somehow that comment drew Sinestro's eyes to the stretch of the fabric over Hal's well-muscled back, and then along his spine to the edge of the shirt.  The lift with Hal's movements was just enough for it to be clear that Hal was wearing absolutely nothing else.  One magenta hand clenched into a fist. 

The other, after a moment's thought, slipped just under the edge of the shirt to rest right where Hal's ass met his thigh.  Sinestro forced his fisted hand open and raised it as if to activate a ring, then remembered he was no longer wearing one.  "You... do not appear to have found the lubricant, Jordan."

It was an easy action to follow, even at Hal’s angle, and gave him a strange, heavy warmth in his chest at the reminder that Sinestro was effectively powerless and trusting him with that. A week or not, old habits died hard. He knew from his own experiences and felt a peculiar wave of empathy mix with the playful lust still mostly at the helm. Hal deepened his smirk and lounged forward with an arch of his back, as if stretching.

“Mmm, didn’t I?” he countered, glancing back at Sinestro and letting the beer dangle loosely from his fingers. “Maybe you just haven’t looked hard enough.”

A smile slid on to Sinestro's face, halfway between devious and proud.  "You are very eager, Jordan," he stated easily, leaning bodily over Hal to reach for the bottle.  "Although I do commend you on your preparation."

“I _do_ think ahead sometimes,” Hal pointed out on a laugh, easily relinquishing the drink in favor of pressing himself back to brush against Sinestro.

After setting the alcohol aside, Sinestro moved back so he could run both hands under the shirt and up against the perky firm globes of Hal's ass.  He let himself have some time to knead and squeeze at his leisure, now that they had taken the edge off and were in no hurry.  "Very good," he told Hal, a thumb briefly grazing the lubricated area.

Hal gave a little hum of approval, arching up into the touch. He laid his arms down over the cool granite so he could better the angle of his hips—as much for his own balance as for the aesthetic appeal he could tell Sin was enjoying. It was a slow build of warmth. Something much different than what had overtaken them even just minutes ago, but all the more enjoyable for it. Taking the time to appreciate the strong fingers digging into his flesh—the way it flushed heat up his spine and heralded the ache he knew from experience would leave him bruised—was an easy decision to make. Besides, especially after their last round, he was more than willing to let Sinestro take the lead.

Sinestro moved slowly, able to keep an eye on the timers this time.  It allowed him to painstakingly explore everything, starting with molding Hal's ass and continuing on to running a finger along his cleft.  Sinestro circled his touch around Hal's rim, which was slick and loose with what was obviously recent preparation.  Another burst of heat assaulted Sinestro; despite knowing, based on previous conversation, that Hal must have spent time preparing himself, the sensory proof of it was something else entirely.

A quiet sigh escaped just as Hal’s hips instinctively bucked up, into Sinestro’s wandering touch. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to share something like this—unhurried, content, and bound together by something other than lust or sheer adrenaline. Whatever the cause, it was a nice change of pace that had Hal shifting his feet just a bit wider and settling himself down on the counter with a slow, steadying breath. Obviously, Sinestro felt like taking his time and Hal, however sensitive he might be from their previous round, intended to pace himself against overstimulation.

Despite it being obvious Hal had already stretched himself—which brought unexpectedly arousing images to the forefront of Sinestro's mind—Sinestro still slipped two fingers in and started up a slow rhythm.  Sinestro knew from prior experience that it would be a while before Hal could respond again, besides which Hal had done a clearly hurried preparation earlier, so Sinestro began stretching him further.  On a whim, his free hand slapped the underside of Hal's ass, not gently.

The resultant yelp was mostly surprise, but that didn’t mean Hal didn’t feel the sting well after. He blinked back startled tears from the corners of his eyes and rolled his hips back against the fingers pressing steadily deeper into him. “God, Sin—” a sharp whine cut off the words when long fingers brushed something sensitive and he shuddered against the countertop. “Again,” he breathed out. “You could… keep doing that.”

The corners of Sinestro's lips rose in approval.  "What would you like me to keep doing?" he asked, drawing back his free hand and repeating the slap, just once.  "This?"  Before Hal could answer, he did it again.

Spanking wasn’t exactly new for Hal, and he should have known better, but that didn’t keep him from tensing up after the first strike and quickly losing his breath to the second. “Yes!” His hands fisted against the countertop and he arched his back again: raising his ass up as best as he could with two fingers still trying to work him open in spite of the way he tensed and trembled from being struck. “God _yes_ …”

"You like it," Sinestro observed smugly, giving Hal what was requested via a series of rhythmic spanks, slightly offset from the cadence he used for the fingers still inside of Hal.  This was—a relatively new practice for Sinestro.  He had done it entirely on a stray thought, but Hal seemed to enjoy it immensely, and Sinestro found Hal's powerful reactions both fascinating and arousing.  He made a mental note to explore the variations of this kink further in the future.

“Yes, I—” Sinestro’s hand seemed suddenly harder than Hal remembered: each consecutive strike cutting off his words and forcing him into aborted moans and soft cries. “I’m surprised you—ah!” The uneven pace was making it impossible to anticipate the hard slap of Sinestro’s hand to the reddening globe of Hal’s ass. It caught him off guard every time, making him clench down on the fingers still loosening him from within, in spite of the added difficulty. A soft whine escaped when Sinestro paused long enough for the sting to simmer and sink slowly into an ache. Hal drew a shaky breath and exhaled slowly. “I just… assumed it wasn’t something you liked,” he eventually settled on.

"I like that you like it," Sinestro explained simply, self-satisfied smirk still firmly in place.  "Your reactions are..."  He started a short series this time, then paused again, pressing his arousal briefly against Hal's thigh to make a point.  "...intriguing."

Hal pushed back with a loud moan, rocking against Sinestro’s erection the little bit he could, the pain of each strike forcing his pleasure perfectly. “Says the man—oh _fuck_ just like that—” He bucked up suddenly against the pair of fingers stroking him from within. “God—Sin— _you guys_ get high off almost _dying_ ,” he tossed back over his shoulder, breath short and skin flush from arousal. “A little pain… ‘s not so different.”

If Sinestro thought about it logically, it actually made a great deal of sense for Hal to derive pleasure from pain—this man who ran reckless into the universe's worst places, who took on challenges he wasn't prepared to face and triumphed regardless.  Sinestro suddenly felt a swell of pride that he was the one making Hal lose himself to pleasure. 

"Mmm," he rumbled, withdrawing his fingers with a smirk, and bringing his left hand down where the fingers had been.

Another sharp yelp escaped, not because Hal didn’t anticipate the strike, but from allowing himself to feel it. The area was already sensitive thanks to Sinestro’s other fingers, but keeping the tension in his arms and back as much as possible really let the hit sink in. His flesh stung and he knew without looking that his ass was already as red as his lips. What an image he must have made: debauchery thrown over the kitchen counter, ass up and asking for more.

The thought made him shudder and ache deeply all over again. “ _Sin_ —” It was hardly more than a moan: low and breathless and pleading.

"Yes?"  Sinestro let the word curl up with his mouth as his palm struck reddened flesh once more.  "Do you need something, Jordan?"

This time, it was more a moan than a cry forced from Hal’s lips as his hips rocked against the counter. He hissed, sharply inhaling against the brush of sensitive flesh against the back of the rucked up shirt and the rough press of it against the rounded edge of the counter. “N-no.” Another short breath. “No, I—” Hal cut himself off with a brief shake of his head, unsure of which answer he should be giving and substituting with the Korugarian’s name again.

The amusement on Sinestro's face grew exponentially as the oven began beeping.  "Well then," he said, a distinct teasing tone to his voice, "If you do not need anything, I shall attend to the oven."  He leaned over so that his mouth was a breath away from the back of Hal's neck.  "Jordan," he whispered commandingly.  "Do not move." 

Then, with a single movement, Sinestro pulled himself away and moved to the sink to wash his hands.  He took his time, making sure to apply cleaning agent to every nook and cranny, slowly massaging it in before leisurely rinsing it back out.

Hal could practically feel the hair rise on the back of his neck, his entire body taut beneath Sinestro’s leer—and then he was gone. Biting his cheek barely restrained the whimper that tried to accompany a shiver at the sudden absence, but Hal was better than that. Brown eyes screwed shut as he focused on keeping still—careful breathing instinctively matching the frustrating metronome of the oven’s alarm still ringing as Sinestro took his time at the sink.

Not exactly what he’d expected to come back to when he'd found the lube in the bedroom. Not that he was complaining, either, but fuck if that wasn’t just as frustrating as it was hot and hell if it wouldn’t make him hard well before it should. It was probably a good thing Sinestro intended to feed him eventually, Hal absently noted in a blind bid to keep his mind preoccupied by anything other than the pleasant ache of his ass and the wanton position he’d been told to keep.

Once his hands were thoroughly clean, and his body mostly under control, Sinestro strode over to the oven and opened it, letting the blast of hot air waft into the kitchen.  He carefully pulled a casserole from the top rack of the oven, eyeing the meatloaf to confirm that it was coming along. After slowly and deliberately putting the casserole on the stove, Sinestro closed the oven and sauntered casually back toward Hal.  "Very good, Jordan," he breathed into Hal's ear, taking advantage of the man having his eyes closed.

Hal strangled back his response to a muffled noise in the back of his throat, and let himself tense rather than move. It was easy to feel Sinestro’s closeness, but he knew better than to react physically just yet. Of course, that didn’t keep him from answering with a cheeky, “Do I get a prize?”

"I think you deserve a prize for good behavior," Sinestro replied, nipping at the back of Hal's neck.  "What would you like, Jordan?"

This time, Hal let his eyes slit open again, enjoying the bite on his neck a little too much to withhold the action. “… want to feel you again, Thaal,” he groaned with a pointed roll of his hips, keeping his back arched at the end.

Sinestro bit back a groan of his own at the view beneath him.  This was Hal, wanting and waiting for him, unashamed.  "How?" Sinestro demanded, pressing a line of kisses methodically down Hal's spine.

“Inside me,” Hal breathed, shivering beneath the press of Sin’s lips and unwilling to keep his enjoyment hidden.

"Oh?" Sinestro responded softly, left hand slowly smoothing its way down across Hal's side and hip, then over the still-flushed curve of his ass until his fingers slid smoothly inside.  "Like this?"

“You… fucking _tease_.” Hal’s words were little more than a hiss, but even as he said them, he arched back up against the press of those fingers, urging them deeper.

"You seem to enjoy it."  Sinestro's fingers suddenly thrust hard right around where he remembered there being a spot Hal rather liked.

A sharp cry overtook whatever retort Hal had intended: the sudden burst of pleasure lancing up his spine until he arched up off the counter entirely. “ _Fuck_!” He drew a short, shaky breath and sagged back down to the granite once more, body tense, back bowed and hips swiveling back to avoid a hard clash with the counter’s edge. “ _Fuck_ … Thaal… give a guy some warning.” He didn’t sound nearly as upset as his words implied.

"Oh, well.  Here is your warning," Sinestro replied, amused, and repeated the action almost immediately.

Hal’s cry quickly morphed into a heated moan. He twisted and clawed for purchase, instinctively hiking his hips up and back into the persistent touch. There was fire in his veins: a latent blaze of lust searing him from the inside out. How long had it been? Hal could barely raise the count of time between when last they’d touched with anything other than fists and taunts, but he knew it had been at least that long since he’d let someone touch him like this. He wanted to _move—_ or else be held down and thoroughly fucked. Or at least had planned on it, and now his hips hitched against thrusts he couldn’t make, his erection was recovering in damn near record time, and the fingers taunting him with such fierce pleasure just weren’t _enough_ to take him any further.

Sinestro withdrew the fingers, then.  He had wanted to take his time after the quick blaze that had been their first round, but Hal was already lost in pleasure again, and Sinestro never had been able to resist Hal's desire.  And in his own wantonly sexual way, Hal was resplendent beneath Sinestro, begging without words for Sinestro to do as he pleased.  It _had_ been too long.

Undoing his trousers, Sinestro ground his cock against Hal gently before pressing forward to just breach the ring of muscle.

“ _Thaal_ —” It was a broken, purely inhuman sound by the time it escaped Hal’s throat; something wholly alien in the way it rolled off his tongue. “God, just— _move_!” He drew a shuddering breath, back bowing with another back-of-the-throat noise and a tension that rocked him back just enough to push against Sinestro’s tease. “… _Fuck me—please._ ”

It was the begging that really drew Sinestro in, and he thrust all the way inside, only half in control.  "Jordan," he growled low in his throat, followed by a Korugarian curse as he held himself still there, making sure Hal had time to adjust, and perhaps as one last tease.

Hal gave a low, utterly pleased groan, eagerly pushing himself up to brace against his hands as the thick length stretched him wide. “Just… like that.” His words were accented with a slow roll of his hips that let him enjoy the slide of something long and hard and purely _alien_ along sensitive inner walls for the first time in far too long. His fingers bent and curled against the edge of the counter, not quite grasping anything until his ring hand wandered back to brush over Sinestro’s waist and dip into the small of his back with an encouraging press.

“You feel good, Thaal…” Another slow rock accented his words. “ _Perfect_ ,” breathlessly followed in lust-broken Korugarian.

All of it was just a little too good, just a little too _much_ for Sinestro.  The green ring against his skin, the human tongue wrapped around Korugarian endearments, the stubborn way Hal was inadvertently floating a little—everything brought him back to their early days, back when there were no boundaries between them, when they were together more often than not and could never take their hands off each other.  Well, some things never changed, at least. 

"Jordan," he rasped again, Hal's Korugarian phrase and his own lust-drunkenness throwing Sinestro back into his native speech.  " _I will take you apart._ "  He thrust again, and again, and started into an even-keeled pace, the heat and pull of Hal's body an addictive feeling.  " _... fuck my claim into you._ "  Without pause, Sinestro leaned over and whispered against Hal's ear: " _You and I will break galaxies._ "

“ _… and forge stars._ ”

Hal couldn’t honestly remember where the answer came from or when Sinestro must have said it for him to know it, but there it was, low and full of far more emotion than should have slipped out between them. He leaned back, rocking into the deep thrusts with a pleased moan. God, it felt so good just to _enjoy himself_ again. He hardly had to think amidst the warmth and pleasure and lingering ache. Even using the ring enough to keep himself at the right height to lay his head back against Sinestro’s shoulder was inconsequential just then—done because he wanted the angle: wanted to _make_ Thaal want him.

He pressed a smirk against Sin’s jaw as a kiss.

Sinestro let his hands slide up the front of Hal's stomach, and then reach to his chest, hard muscle tensing under Sinestro's touch.  Hal always had a certain easy power to him, especially when he did things without thinking about them, that attracted Sinestro deeply.  A rush of emotion filled Sinestro's chest.  He had not expected Hal to remember those words, a poem of sorts, written into the skin of a young human lover years ago.  Sinestro had never told Hal its origins. 

" _All the universe is ours_ ," Sinestro recited, smile turning a little soft, " _to rewrite in our own names, together_." 

And how he wanted Hal Jordan in this moment—Sinestro found his pace quickening and his thrusts less controlled as he branded himself into Hal's body.

With Sinestro it was always something _more_. Something deeper, harder, and at the very edge of his breath. In bed. On the field. When the fate of the universe hung in the balance. They were thrills Hal thrived on, all, but the distinctly _dense_ texture of Korugarian skin brushing up against his own… the feeling of being all but enveloped by his lover… those were thrills he could never grow tired of.

So Hal let his head fall back completely, moaning his pleasure loudly when no more words would come. He used the one hand still holding to the countertop for leverage to push himself back into Sinestro’s thrusts: savoring the drive as much as he encouraged it with each clench of his muscles, the flex of his body a display for Thaal to enjoy. The fact that it was clearly appreciated—that it made Sinestro sharpen his thrusts and quicken his pace—only reinforced the action. Made him stiffen and tremble and rumble in the back of his throat until he came again, heady and shallow, body hardly recovered enough for much more, but allowing the sweet gratification to roll through his veins and spurt in short, tremulous bursts against his stomach and down his thighs.  

Sinestro could sense, even from behind, when the rhythmic moans and lustful trembles transformed into release; it was an experience Sinestro was intimately familiar with, and yet remained a new venture every time.  He maintained his pace, using the utmost concentration to try to hold himself off, hands sliding back down again to brace Hal more sturdily against him, one hand splayed at Hal's waist and the other curling inside Hal's thigh, smearing the sticky fluid there. 

"Jordan," he growled unsteadily, biting and then pressing a soft kiss to the curve of Hal's neck.

Hal leaned into the hold with a mindless groan, encouraging even in afterglow. He shifted and rolled: ill content to rest when his lover swayed precariously on the brink of the selfsame pleasure he enjoyed. Another grind of their hips, another breathless declaration of praise in an alien tongue, and Sinestro was dragged forcibly back into the blinding sort of bliss he associated only with the man in his arms.  He groaned, hands pressing Hal even more tightly to him, spilling his own intense pleasure into Hal's blazingly hot, pliant body, and lost, for a moment; knowing only Hal Jordan in the entire universe.


End file.
